


Convalescence

by harpydora



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Gen, Pre-Canon, Season: Bluff City, Secret Samol, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29233500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harpydora/pseuds/harpydora
Summary: This sucks. Franklin would kick the stupid crutches if it weren't for his broken ankle and the fact that the crutches were his best bet at getting around.(Or: That time Franklin breaks his ankle and has no choice but to hang out with his teammates.)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Convalescence

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Secret Samol gift for @vampiricfern! I chose the prompt: "I'd really enjoy something with the superhero group from Bluff city. It could be a mission the 4 of them go on outside of canon, a different version of their mission in the first season or just them hanging out at their secret base, maybe with Rupert." I couldn't resist the call of some super teens fluff, so here you go! It's set nebulously pre-canon because I wanted Franklin to have homework to avoid.
> 
> Anyway, happy SecSam, and I hope you enjoy!

This sucks. Franklin would kick the stupid crutches if it weren't for his broken ankle and the fact that the crutches were his best bet at getting around. He can't even stand up long enough to play most of the arcade games in their hideout to entertain himself. Hilda is playing with the hand-held system already, and god only knows where Chanti and Elena are, which leaves him trying to entertain himself with other things.

Well, "entertain" is a strong word at the moment, considering that he's working on homework right now. The first week of his senior year had been fine, but the reading for the second week is kind of kicking his ass. How is he supposed to care about ECON101 when there's a serial burglar on the loose in the city?

Okay, so maybe there isn't a serial burglar on the loose right this second, but there _could_ be. It's always something in Bluff City. There's always someone who needs a good thwarting. Or something like that.

He sets aside his ECON101 textbook and glances over at Hilda. "Hey, you wanna share that?"

She looks up from her game, wings shifting and glinting in the limited light of the underground arcade. "Hmm?"

Franklin gestures at the handheld game console in her hands. "I _know_ we've got some two-player games for that thing. C'mon, I challenge you to a round of _Dario Cart!_ "

Hilda considers for a moment, her brow furrowing, before she scoots closer. "Sure. I've only ever watched it be played so you'll have to forgive me for being inexperienced." She presses a few buttons to presumably save her game, then pops the cartridge from the handheld. "Do you have the _Dario Cart_ game?"

"Yeah, hang on." Franklin leans over carefully so as not to overbalance himself as he digs through his backpack. He fishes the cartridge in a protective case out of one pocket and tosses it to Hilda. She nearly fumbles it but doesn't quite, and in another moment the game is inserted into the game system.

As soon as it's booted, she disconnects the halves of the system and hands Franklin to primary one. "Alright, show me how to play."

It takes most of the afternoon (by the end of which virtually none of Franklin's course work is done), but he manages to teach Hilda how to be… well, she's still kind of a pushover by the time Chanti and Elena make it back to their hideout, but she's not the worst person he's played against.

*

Two weeks later, Franklin is in a walking cast, but he's also under strict orders to take it easy. Which sucks. There's _still_ probably about fifty people in Bluff City who need to be served their comeuppance right now, and Franklin is not allowed to confront any of them.

It's bogus, is what it is.

At least he's allowed to stand, so the old arcade cabinets can distract him from the fact that his calc homework is looming in the distance. There's some classics like _Oval Guy_ and _Happy Harry_ , and some mid-tier cabinets like his favorite, _Ragin' Cajun Rampage._

Standing next to the _Rampage_ cabinet, Franklin turns to Elena. "You like punching things, right?"

Elena bristles a little. "I'm _good_ at punching things, yeah." Her arms are crossed over her chest and her eyes are narrowed. "Why?"

Franklin shrugs. "I dunno, I just thought maybe you'd be a good _Ragin' Cajun Rampage_ player. I could use someone to play with. I can't get past level four by myself."

There's a moment or two of silence during which Franklin imagines all the different ways that Elena could blow him off. But when she finally responds, it's with a curt nod. "Sure. I bet I can beat your score, too," she says with a ferocity that doesn't quite match the low stakes of the situation.

"That's… the spirit?" The statement comes out more of a question, but Elena doesn't seem to notice. She just takes the player two position next to the cabinet, gently nudging Franklin out of her way with one shoulder as she does so.

"Let's kick some ass," Elena responds. She doesn't smile, instead focusing her strong gaze on the screen as it cycles through the demo mode. Franklin grabs four arcade tokens from the pile next to him and inserts them into the slots for players one and two.

"I'll kick _your_ ass," retorts Franklin as the start screen flares to life.

"You wish," Elena mutters under her breath and proceeds to absolutely destroy his high score over the next fifteen minutes.

Franklin doesn't let her get away with it unscathed, though. He puts up a good fight, and they go another four rounds before Franklin's ankle begins to ache. They even make it all the way to the final boss on their third round, but he's never _quite_ able to eclipse Elena's score.

That's okay, though. Even without being able to beat Elena, it's a good way to pretend his calculus homework doesn't exist for a little while.

*

Franklin graduated from the walking cast to a special boot two weeks later, but he's out of the boot now. It's great because he doesn't have to use some stupid inserts to keep his feet even, but unfortunately, being out of the walking boot means the two dreaded letters. More dreaded than AP (so much fucking homework). More dreaded than IV (as much as he gets banged up, he's never gotten the hang of needing intravenous anything; stitches yes, IVs no).

Being out of the boot means Physical Therapy.

And that means Chanti looming over his shoulder while he works with one of those resistance bands. "Your technique is wrong," she says in that overly serious way that she says just about everything.

Franklin sighs and looks up from his exercise, feeling a little defensive now. "I'm doing it just fine."

"It's sloppy. You're not going to get full range of motion back that way," Chanti says matter-of-factly. "Here, let me demonstrate how you do it properly."

It's hard to ignore Chanti when she gets all serious and better-than-you, so Franklin just sighs again and hands the resistance band to her. "Okay, if you're so sure you can do it better, show me."

If Chanticleer notices the petulant tone in Franklin's voice, she ignores it. Instead, she loops the resistance band around one foot and illustrates the exercise with near-expert precision. "Like this. If you're going to be part of the team, we need you to be in good shape. You can't skimp on your PT." She hands the band back to Franklin. "Your turn."

He rolls his eyes but mimics the movements she'd showed him. God, it hurts to move his foot like this, but he can definitely feel the difference between this and how he'd been doing it before. He does the motion a few more times, grimacing each time. Chanti looks pleased with his efforts, though.

After another three times through the exercise, Franklin stops, panting. It isn't that the motion is taxing, exactly. It's just intensely uncomfortable.

God, he hates PT.

"How many times are you supposed to do that?" Chanti asks.

"Ugh, come on. Haven't I suffered enough?" Franklin groans. He still had two more sets of ten reps to do, and another exercise without the band. Chanti doesn't need to know that, though.

Unfortunately, Chanticleer's sharp sense of deduction cuts right through Franklin's bullshit. "I'm serious, you need to stick with this or you won't be able to keep up with us out there." She gestures vaguely in the direction of the underground arcade's exit.

Franklin groans again. " _Fine,_ " he grumbles. He hates PT but Chanti has a point. He'd hate not being able to do his thing even more.

Chanti places a hand lightly on his shoulder and locks eyes with him. Her gaze is strong, but Franklin refuses to shy away from it.

After a moment, she smirks. "You're strong, Mr. Good. You've done a lot of hard things, and you can do this."

He feels himself smirking in return. "I'm not gonna let the team down."

"Good," Chanti says. She gives his shoulder a squeeze then turns to go do… whatever it is the protege of a legendary superhero does in her spare time.

What _does_ Chanticleer do when she's not Grouse, Franklin wonders as he starts on his next set of ten.

Maybe one day, when he can walk more steadily again, he'll try to find out.


End file.
